“No. It would be folly,” he said; “I should not find him out in this wild. Depend upon it, Bart, that was an Indian fire and camp out beyond the ridge yonder, and he suspected it. These old plainsmen read every sign of earth and sky, and we must learn to do the same, boy, for it may mean the saving of our lives.”
“I’ll try,” said Bart earnestly. “I can follow trail a little now.”
“Yes, and your eyes are wonderfully keen,” replied the Doctor. “You have all the acute sense of one of these hunters, but you want the power of applying what you see, and learning its meaning.”
Bart was about to reply, but the Doctor began walking up and down impatiently, for being more used than his ward in the ways of the plains, he could not help feeling sure that there was danger, and this idea grew upon him to such an extent that at last he roused the men from their sleep, bidding them silently get the horses ready for an immediate start, should it be necessary; and while this was going on, he went into the tent.
“Maude—my child—quick!” he said quietly. “Don’t be alarmed, but wake up, and be ready for a long ride before dawn.”
Maude was well accustomed to obey promptly all her father’s orders, and so used to the emergencies and perils of frontier life that she said nothing, but rapidly prepared for their start, and in a few minutes she was ready, with all her little travelling possessions in the saddle-bags and valise that were strapped to her horse.
Just as the Doctor had seen that all was nearly ready, and that scarcely anything more remained to be done than to strike the little tent, Joses came running up.
“Well! what news?” said the Doctor, hurriedly.
“Injun—hundreds—mile away,” said the plainsman in quick, sharp tones. “Hah! good!” he added, as he saw the preparations that had been made.
“Bart, see to Maude’s horse. Down with the tent, Joses; Harry, help him. You, Juan and Sam, see to the horses.”